


A Whouffaldi Christmas

by Tennants_midnight_wolf



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Whouffaldi Secret Santa 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-12 05:11:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9056896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tennants_midnight_wolf/pseuds/Tennants_midnight_wolf
Summary: A few fluff filled whouffaldi Christmas short fics. This is for the whouffaldi secret Santa.





	1. Christmas decorations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [veradune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/veradune/gifts).



> This is my whouffaldi secret Santa gift for Veradune. I hope you like it. Also I'm so imaginative with titles X3

“Doctor?” 

“Yes, Clara?”

“Why don't you ever decorate the TARDIS?” 

“What? Are you getting bored of this already?” He scowled at her, from the other side of the console. He quite liked the TARDIS’s current theme and thought that she did too. So then why this sudden want for change?

She smirked at him, realising he had mistaken her words. “I wasn't on about the theme. I meant decorate, as in for Christmas.”

He looked up at her slowly. “Why would I do that?”

“Because most people decorate their homes at Christmas.” 

“Clara” he sighed. “There's no point, if you want Christmas we can travel there. Outside is where the festivities are, not here. One second we could be in Christmas 2072 the next summer 1947. This is more a vehicle than a home.” 

“I know. It was just a suggestion, don't worry about it Doctor.” She wanders off into the TARDIS and he's left confused by her actions. Feeling as if he'd let her down somehow.  
Her words keep echoing in his head ‘most people decorate their homes at Christmas’. But he wasn't most people. He was a Time Lord. But then again she wasn't, she was human and had a love for the silly human holidays. Maybe she had a point though. This was somewhat like a home for him, and since she was travelling with him more often now, maybe that was how she viewed it too. He gazed at the controls formulating a plan. 

The next morning Clara wandered into the console room to find the Doctor covered in Christmas lights and the room had been transformed, there was tinsel wrapped around the bannisters. With lights hanging from the bookshelves and a Christmas tree adorned the corner of the room.

“Did you do all this?”

“No it was Santa’s elves, they raided the place as it wasn’t festive enough and left me like this as punishment.”

“Really? Good old Santa.” She mused, as she wandered over to him helping to pull the tangle of lights off of him.

“Of course it was me.” He finished. 

“Thank you.” She rose up and pressed her lips to his cheek, and he instantly felt the warmth colour them. 

“So what other Christmassy things shall we do?”


	2. Christmas jumpers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara wants the Doctor to get into the festive spirit by wearing a Christmas jumper; the Doctor isn't so sure.

The first time Clara suggested it, he had given her the 'are you serious, because you sounded serious' face. All she had suggested was that he'd give it a try and wear it, even if it's just for fifteen minutes. Apparently that was too much to ask. 

"Come on you love jumpers."

"But not ones that have a cat with a Santa's hat depicted on the front." He stated annoyed. 

"No, you prefer to wear ones that are clearly moth eaten." 

He scowled. 

“You said yourself you wanted to do more festive things.” 

“Yes, like stopping the next alien invasion. They always seem to enjoy this time of year for commencing their plans. Can't we just do that?” 

“That's not exactly festive.”

“Seriously? Oh well, they could've fooled me.” 

“Doctor, please?” 

She herself was wearing a festive jumper, the image of two penguins adorned in hats and scarfs with a love heart above them was on it. 

However he was adamant. He wasn't going to be like the rest of the silly pudding brains, (although somehow this excluded Clara, since her jumper didn't look too bad). By the end of the evening his jumper laid in a pile on the floor and there he was determined for it to stay. 

Still his protests didn't deter her and she was determined to succeed. Every day she'd bring him a new jumper, with a different design. In the hope that there would be one that piqued his interest. On one occasion she brought him a scarf instead but he wasn't a scarf wearing person anymore, apparently. Once you’ve had a really long one all the rest seem inferior. Each time he would refuse to wear it and would add it to the slowly ever growing pile in the corner of the console room.

“Seriously Doctor, it's freezing in here. Surely you need to wear one.” She stated, brandishing the newest jumper toward him. She knew he could be stubborn but even he wasn't that stupid to not notice the drop in temperature in the TARDIS over the last few days. 

“Clara, I'm fine. Besides the Tardis shouldn't be that cold the heating has been on every day.” 

“Well it doesn't appear to be working.” She sighed, as he added the newest jumper, this one was faded blue with cute Christmas animals and items adorned on it, to the pile, and carried on piloting the TARDIS to their next destination.

After a while Clara decided enough was enough, besides she didn't have the salary to keep buying him any more jumpers that he wouldn't wear. The Doctor however noticed his lack of gifts that day. “No jumper today?” He questions in what he hopes is a casual tone.

“No not today. There's not much point, I'm not going to force you to wear them if you don't want to.” 

The Doctor tilts his head at her words but leaves the point alone, not mentioning anymore of his lack of gifts or of the jumpers piled high in the corner. 

However the next morning Clara was greeted by an extra festive Time Lord, he was wearing the very first jumper she had gifted to him, all those days ago. 

“Is that?” 

“Do you like it?” He held out his arms rather awkwardly and awaited her judgement.

“Very festive.” She grinned back at him, “but why the change of heart?” 

“Oh no reason, just thought it seemed a bit nippy in here and there was all those jumpers going to waste. Can't have them cluttering up the console room.” 

“Mm hmm.” She agreed back. 

“So no gift again today?” He asked casually.

“No.”

“Tomorrow?” He tried not to sound too eager.

“Perhaps, we’ll see…” She said with a wink of her eye.


	3. Snowball fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Clara have a snowball fight. But who will win?

She felt the impact of the snowball before she saw it, twisting around to see the Doctor, several feet way, a wicked grin on his lips and mischievous glint to his blue eyes. He had another snowball already in his hands and was passing it from hand to hand ready to launch. He drew back his arm. The snowball flew free. It hit against her arm, the snow spreading against her thick jacket. She looked back at the Doctor and instantly knew he wasn't getting away with that. After all two could play at this game. She dodged the incoming snowball as she bent down rolling up the crystal snow beneath her. 

“Didn't think you liked snow?” Clara questioned straightening up, rolling the snow in her hands so it was just the perfect shape.

“I don't, it's too cold and hardly ever real. But it's great for snowball fights.” He replied as she launched her snowball at him, of which he avoided. 

“Over here!” He chided back. She narrowed her eyes as another one flew past him. 

“Come on Clara, I'm over here!” He states standing still his arms outstretched awaiting her next snowball. She eyed him curiously surely he wouldn't just let her hit him so easily? Still she aimed the snowball and watched as he sidestepped easily. His eyebrows raising bemused.

She needed a way to distract him, a way to catch him off guard. He picks up another pile of snow rounding it out in his hands and she instantly knows what to do.

"You're good at this.” She called over to him. 

“Ah, it's easy really. Besides, I competed in the Yukigassen seven years in a row. My team always won.” 

She raises her eyebrows impressed. “Well, do think you could show me some of your winning moves?” 

He stands still for a moment, hands automatically passing the snow from left to right. “Certainly.” He wanders over to her and tells her to pick up a pile of snow making it as round as possible. 

“It's all in the technique. You want an even sized snowball, and when you throw it, it's all in the wrist action. If you add a spin to it it’ll surely hit its target, here.” He places his hand gently over hers, helping her to line up the shot as she draws back and then releases the snowball. It flies into the air and then hits the ground several feet away. 

“See?” 

“Ok, I think I've got it.” She grins at him, as they both reset to commence their battle. He picks up another bundle of snow as she does. They both take aim, the Doctor goes first and Clara dodges it, though she suspects that could've been a dud throw. 

She throws her snowball at him and it misses. “Well, just because I've shown you doesn't mean I’ll let you hit me straight away.” He responds aiming his next snowball toward her. 

"LET me?!?!” Clara exclaims offended. This one just skirts past her, not such a dud throw this time. 

Clara turns around picking up her next ammunition in one swift movement, throwing it with a flourish. It spins in the air and falls hitting its target squarely in the chest. The Doctor comically stumbles backwards into the snow and starts laughing as he hits the padded ground, sending snow into the air. 

"Doctor!” Clara rushes over towards him but as his laughter hits her ears she realises he's not hurt. She stands over him smiling, as he holds out his hand for her to help him up. But as she takes his hand he tugs her down into the snow with him, causing more snow to fly up around them both, their laughter echoing around them.

Afterwards the Doctor gets to his feet, helping Clara back up as well. Yet the snow had made it easier to feel the nip of the frosty air against her skin, even through her warm jacket, as she started moving from foot to foot, teeth chattering due to the chill.

The Doctor noticing her demeanour steps forward embraced her in a hug, his arms wrapping around her petite frame. He was starting to get use to hugs now, the way his arms fitted completed around her, and the way her head rested against his chest connecting like two puzzle pieces. Hugs really weren't that difficult after all.

It was snug and secure and most importantly warm. Soon she stopped shivering and began relaxing into the his arms as he half shielded her from the flurry of snow that was beginning to fall. She moved her head to look up at him, his blue eyes staring back into her deep chestnut. Her cheeks dimpled. "You've got snow in your hair." 

"So do you." He responded as she reached up and brushed the white flakes away.

"Back to the TARDIS?" He questioned.

"Back to the TARDIS” she agreed. Intertwining her fingers between his, falling into step together, their footprints all that's left behind in their wake.


	4. Fireplace cuddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the TARDIS's heating broken, the Doctor and Clara resort to cuddling up in front of the fireplace.

“I told you the heating wasn't working.” Clara protested, dragging a blanket through her living room door. 

“How was I suppose to know? I have a lower body temperature than you. Besides I thought you were just being fussy.” 

Clara glared at him as she dropped the blanket onto the floor next to the mound of pillows. She flopped down on them resting the blanket over her watching the Doctor try and start the fire.

“You er…ok there?”

“Yes, absolutely fine Clara.”

“Can't you just use the sonic?”

“It doesn't do wood.”

“Neither do Time Lords by the looks of it.” She giggled as he struggled to set the thing aflame. 

He glanced around at her before turning back toward the fireplace and after a few minutes of tinkering it burst into life. He moved over to her and plonked himself onto the floor beside her, where Clara handed him some of the blanket she was already underneath. “See a roaring fire.” 

“I see, well done. At least it's warmer than the TARDIS anyway.”

“Ah she’ll be fine, just need to let her rest to reset those calibrations I done earlier once that's all set you’ll be complaining she’s like a sauna next.” 

She ignored his comment, silence falling between them with the only noise being the crackling of the fire in the hearth. After a while they fall into relaxed conversation together, and he notices as her body shifts beside him, closing the gap between them. 

Clara rested her head against his shoulder watching the flicking flames dance in the grate. Listening to him talk, it was nice, how his accent rolled over the r’s and elongated the vowels. How his voice seemed to change pitch and his words came quicker as he was excited about this particular topic. She let her eyelids flutter shut, utterly content tucked up all warm and snug next to her protective Time Lord. 

“Clara? Are you awake?”

“Yes.” 

“But your eyes are closed?”

“I'm just resting them, it's been a long day.”

"Well, I suspect your eyes need more rest what with their inflating capabilities.” 

She whacked him underneath the covers, but kept her eyes closed. 

“Good day though?” She could hear the worry in his tone, he had taken her to a planet that constantly snowed just one of the Christmassy things they had planned to do. But with the weather and the heating system already on the blink the TARDIS didn't fair very well from that trip. 

“Of course.” She breathed back and could image his eyebrows rising and the corners of his lips tugging upwards. 

The Doctor carried on talking, and she continued to listen whilst they stayed nestled together. She would occasionally mumble an agreement or giggle at his words, lest he think she wasn't listening and would stop altogether. 

After a while the Doctor noticed the mysterious lack of response coming from her. 

“Clara?” 

He waited a beat for a response. “Clara, you just resting your eyes sti-?” 

The Doctor twisted his head to look at her, stopping mid-sentence his frown melting into a smile. She was snuggled against his side and he could sense the movement of her steady breathing. He leaned over as if on impulse and pressed his lips to her forehead, he thought he saw a flicker of a grin cross her features. But it vanished as quickly as he saw it that he couldn't be positive. Perhaps it was a trick of the light? 

He moved slowly as not to disturb her and they sat there huddled peacefully together the Doctor watching as the flames crackled in the fire.

Soon enough daybreak had come, and Clara awoke to a sleepy time lord cuddled next to her, and the flames in the grate had all but been extinguished.


	5. Gingerbread men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor helps Clara make some gingerbread men.

It must've been something about the festive season but to Clara it was the perfect time to bake. The scent of freshly baked cookies filling the room and the sweet scent of cinnamon adorned her childhood memories. It just wasn't Christmas otherwise.

“Clara?” The Doctor calls out as he exits the TARDIS, into her bedroom as per usual. 

“I'm in the kitchen.” Her voice calls back and he follows it stopping at the doorway. An apron was tied around her waist and an array of cooking utensils were spread out amongst the counters.

“What are you doing?” 

“Making gingerbread.” She replies looking up at him. “Nice jumper.” 

“Oh, this old thing.” He responds. He was wearing another one of the many Christmas jumpers she had gifted to him, this one had a Christmas tree on it with a star that glowed. 

“So aren't you coming travelling today?” He questions, part of him worried of what her answer will be.

“Of course.” She states firmly and that worry he felt instantly dissolves. “But I do this every year, besides it's a present for my Gran.” 

The Doctor stands awkwardly at the doorframe, taking in her words. 

“Oh come on, don’t look like that it’ll be done sooner than you realise.” Yet he still hovers in the doorway unsure of what to do. 

“Hey, could you pass me that bowl?” 

Pleased for something to do the Doctor picks up the bowl she asked for and places it on the counter in front of her. She puts the required ingredients into the bowl and then hands a spoon to the Doctor. 

He looks at her quizzically. “Can't I just use my Screwdriver?” 

“No!” She exclaimed, then more reasonably stated. “I mean no. Not after the mess that thing caused last time.” Remembering the last time she had gotten the Doctor to help her bake cookies. He had decided to use the setting on the sonic screwdriver to whisk it up but it worked a little too well. She then spent the reminder of that particular afternoon cleaning the splattered ingredients off of her cupboards instead. 

Taking the spoon he commences to mix the ingredients together. Whist she grabs a rolling pin and the cookie cutters from out of the cupboard. Having gotten the mixture to the right consistency he grabs a pile of the dough and places it onto the counter. 

Soon they have several gingerbread men cut out of the dough and placed upon a baking tray. Clara puts them into the oven and together they clean up the mess they've caused. 

Once they are cooked, Clara places a few onto each of their plates ready to be decorated. Clara watched as he iced the first gingerbread man, her cheeks dimpling. He was lost in concentration his tongue poking out of his mouth and his eyebrows knitted together. Watching him she gets an idea, turning away she starts on her own icing. 

After a while they both finish the icing and have two plates full of colourful decorated gingerbread men, woman and aliens. (Well the Doctor wasn't just going to create ordinary gingerbread men was he?).

“Here, this one’s for you.” Clara said as she handed him a gingerbread man. 

"Thank you." He said as he glanced at Clara's gingerbread creation. She had given it sunglasses, thick white icing eyebrows topped over them and it was clearly wearing what appeared to be checked trousers and a red jacket. It was himself. 

“You're welcome.” She grinned taking a bite out of one of her own gingerbread men. “So how about that trip?”


	6. Dangerous stuff, mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Doctor? Do you know what mistletoe is?”
> 
> The Doctor almost choked at the words, this was too close for comfort.

The first time the Doctor noticed it he had been on his way to the library. He would've completely missed it had he not been staring up at the ceiling in thought. He stopped a few paces before the spot where it hung and frowned. He didn't remember putting that there. It was possible it could've been Clara’s doing.

Though why would she place that in the TARDIS? 

The Doctor glanced up at the green leaves and white berries above his head. He lifted up the sonic and aimed a few short bursts at it before checking the readings. Nothing out of the ordinary, exceptionally normal. Yet where had it came from? He yanked the offending item down from the doorframe and pocketed it, for further inspection.

Dangerous stuff, mistletoe. 

The second time he noticed one he was on his way to the kitchen to meet Clara, she had told him to meet her there for some hot chocolate. Just another one of the festive Christmassy things they had planned to do. It was hanging from the connecting corridor and he eyed it suspiciously. It was slightly larger in comparison to the first one but it was unmistakably mistletoe. He yanked it down, placing it in his pocket and went to see Clara. 

“You ok?” She asked him, as she handed him his cup. He was acting strange, almost cautious. 

“Yes, why is there something wrong?” He questions hoping to sound casual, his hand resting over his jacket pocket protectively. He wasn't going to mention the M word unless she did. 

“No...” She responded, albeit a tad confused, and they carried on as usual and nothing more was said. 

So naturally he assumed Clara hadn’t noticed them yet. But even still he wasn't going to say anything, he didn't want to draw attention to it if he could help it. He'd just wait it out and find out what was going on himself. After all he knew exactly what mistletoe was.

But by chance Clara had seen one of the mistletoes already, it had been dangling above her bedroom door. She assumed it was the Doctor’s doing, what with making the TARDIS more festive. Although he obviously didn't realise what mistletoe entails otherwise she doubt he would’ve hung it up, particularly there. 

Clara decided to question him on this the next time she saw him. 

“Doctor? Do you know what mistletoe is?”

The Doctor almost choked at the words, this was too close for comfort. He tried to play it cool and hope she was just curious. 

“Yes... I do.” He says avoiding her eyes.

“Oh.” His words had taken her aback. “So, you know the tradition that usually goes along with mistletoe?”

“Tradition?” He lifts his eyebrows pretending to be confused. 

“Yes, there's an old Earth tradition concerning mistletoe.”

“Is there really? Well you know me Clara. I’m not one to get hung up on silly human traditions.” 

That answered it, ok so he didn't realise what it meant. That was good, she guessed. She left the topic alone for rest of the day but that just resulted in making the Doctor even more anxious. 

He spent the rest of the time in the library, researching mistletoe. A piece of which he had procured himself just that morning, laid rested on the table top. The rest he had discarded, best not to have too many of those things laying around. He flicked through a book on Christmas traditions till he came across the pages concerning mistletoe. 

He scanned the plant and re-read the readings of this newest piece. It was the largest bit yet. His eyes skimmed the data and what he read made his eyebrows frown.

“Doctor!” His head shot up in an instant, upon hearing her voice. She was in distress. Pocketing the mistletoe, he pelted down the corridors racing toward her voice sonic screwdriver already in hand. 

She was in the console room and sprouting from the ceiling was tonnes of mistletoe. He darted over towards her, pointing the sonic screwdriver at the plant trying to find a setting that would work. 

“Where's it coming from?”

“It must've been in the TARDIS storage room, probably got loose when I went to decorate the place.” He confessed. 

“Can't you stop it?” 

“Mistletoe is dangerous stuff Clara. It will continue to sprout until…”

“Until what?”

“Until the tradition has been fulfilled.”

At his words she turns to look at him, instantly grabbing his lapels and pulling him towards her rising on her toes and presses her lips to his. He freezes stunned by her actions, what was she doing? But then he melts into the kiss and forgets the situation they are in. She breaks apart first staring at him for a few seconds before turning to see that the mistletoe had all began to shrink until it eventually disappeared. 

“Looks like you were right.” She smiles as he notices that it had indeed worked. 

“Yes.” He hoped his voice didn't sound too hoarse. “I usually am about most things.” 

“So, know what the tradition involving mistletoe is now?” She asks him coyly. 

He puts his hand into his pocket and reveals the piece of mistletoe he placed there. “I'm not sure maybe I should be fully reminded in case of emergency.” 

With a twinkle in her eye she grabs the mistletoe from him and dangles it above them as best she can. “Fine, but only in case of emergency.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and thank you to those you left kudos it's much appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> I'll upload the next part soon...
> 
> Thanks to my Beta reader Spongen-d.


End file.
